


Shake the Ground

by RedLetterGirl



Category: Black Lightning (TV)
Genre: F/F, thundergrace - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2019-10-07 21:05:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17373311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLetterGirl/pseuds/RedLetterGirl
Summary: Anissa struggles to understand her feelings while questioning Grace's increasingly awkward behavior.





	1. Food for Thought

She eats like a bird. She eats like a bird pecking at small morsels, one at a time. This peculiar method of consumption has the unintended side effect of annoying the shit out of me. It is entirely inefficient the way she eats. And yet, when we eat together, I can't look away. 

Last night we shared a bag of caramel corn while meandering through a carnival Grace spotted on the drive home from work. It must have been about a half-mile stroll covering the tilt-a-whirl, the Farris Wheel, and the house of mirrors where we stopped to make silly faces at each other. In that entire space Grace managed six kernels. Just six. Every time I plunged my hand into the bag, I felt like a gluttun.

I must have made a face. I had to have done something spectacular for Grace to take notice in the middle of a house of mirrors

"You okay?" She asked through a mouth that had been pried as far wide as possible by her two index fingers.

Rather than admit to any slight perturbation, I stuck my hand in the bag, grabbed a nice fist full, ate half and threw the other half at an unsuspecting Grace.

Her response? She grabbed at my side and pulled me into her. My neck tilted instinctively. Grace swiftly peppered the arch with kisses. Then, without missing a beat, she reached a hand around a grabbed a kernel, just the one, out of the bag. I watched as she rolled it between two fingers and studied it's features as if an archeologist trying to determine where to dig.

Then, with a flick of her fingers in it went, disappearing behind her lips as if it were never there. 

"C'mon babe. Let's get out of here. It's gettin' kinda late" She pulled at my arm playfully as she said this. I watched carefully as she licked at her lips, savoring the remnants of salty sugar. 

About halfway back to the car, the bag was down to just seeds mixed up with a few loose kernels. This was mostly thanks to my comparatively greedy consumption. To the left of us, glowing in the light of a street lamp, I spotted a trash bin and moved to throw the bag away. Yet again, I felt Grace's arm reach around me and into the bag one last time.

At this point curiosity got the better of me. "Babe, you want another bag?"

"Naw, I'm actually stuffed." Her perplexing reply left me completely bewildered.

She sucked on that last kernel for entirely too long before swallowing. It had to have been a full minute before I saw the muscles in her neck move as if gently massaging the popcorn down her throat.

I spent the remainder of the walk back to the car reliving the moment. No doubt the details of Grace's digestive process grew more vivid with every reimagining in my mind. Even as she was saying something to me, I was too distracted to distinguish the words.

"Anissa...Nissa? " A hand waved in front of my face.

"You good?"  
"What? Yeah."

She looked at me incredulously. I couldn't blame her one bit. I had no words to explain myself. Grace was already thuroughly convinced she'd fallen for the world's cheesiest dork. I wasn't about to give her more ammo by admitting I found her consumption habits and digestive process alluring. Instead I offered a kiss. A small peck on the lips as I escorted her into the passenger side of my car.

"Alright, for a sec I thought I'd lost you to the sunken place."

We got to her place without a hitch. With our hands interlocked, I walked her to the door. The whole time I was studying her lips, their subtlety, their delicate curves. I took in a shallow breath, raised my hands, and held her against the outside of the door. Her body melted into my hands and I struggled to hold on long enough for our lips to meet.

The way Grace kissed me, it was like she was transcribing all of her secrets on to every inch of my flesh that her mouth could reach. I almost felt as if I'd been hyptnotized into a trance and made an extension of her being.

Then, without appropriate notice, Her body stiffened, her face went flush. She pulled away. 

"You okay?"  
"Yeah, I just got a little dizzy." Her face turned toward the ground bashfully.

"Want me to come in? I can make you some tea, put you to bed."  
"I bet you can," Grace laughed. "But, I've got an early morning. Raincheck?"

It was a little odd for her not to let me in, especially since Grace seemed down to chill only a few seconds ago. But, I didn't question it. I didn't do much of anything for a second. Mostly because I was still processing the fact that I wouldn't be getting any that night.

"We good, you still watching the tea being stirred?"  
"Naw, I'm good. I'll see you around."

I'm sure Grace could sense my disappointment because as I tried to leave she stopped me. Her hands slipped under my top, my body shivered and she took advantage, lowering her lips to my chest and nibbling softly. 

"You smell like french toast in the morning," Grace breathed the words gently into my ear. "I would love nothing more than to let you in" A trail of kisses went up my neck until she arrived at my lips. Then she stiffened again. Her voice dropped, her tone shifted completely.

"But babe, I've got way too much on my plate, I wouldn't be any fun."  
"Work can be fun..." I try one last time.  
But Grace was having none of it. "It's a no. Go home" she insisted. "You can take a bubble bath, read in the nude, send pictures."

So that was the end of it last night. I spent the night with a bottle of wine, and a bath. No pictures and no Grace.


	2. Portion Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace wants to keep herself safe, but can't seem to shake Anissa.

At first I thought I was protecting her. I thought...No I convinced myself it was for her personal safety. Funny how that happens sometimes. Like watching TV with a bag of potato chips. I'd Say to myself it'll just be a few, just while I'm watching my favorite show, and then I'll put the bag away for later. I'd say this as I'm putting more chips into my mouth. "Got to stay healthy" I'd say. I'd say this as my hand begins to form a repetitive motion. Even as the bag empties, even as I find myself searching frantically for remnants at the bottom. Eat them one at a time to avoid overindulging, to stay in control. And sometimes it works. Sometimes the bag is half full and I've only watched an hour's worth of some trashy reality TV show. Sometimes I get to put the bag away. But other times, well... Let's just say it's 2 a.m., I'm nursing a second almost empty bag, and I've fallen into a wormhole of TV shows I didn't even know existed.

Things with Anissa were just like that. She was an entire family size bag of Lay's sour cream and onion chips. I'd tell myself to limit our interactions., say just a simple conversation on the ride home. Just a 15-minute drive, how bad could that be. Except that words come out of Anissa's mouth like butter spreading on to toast. Like when we drove past that carnival last night, I only said that it was cute. I hadn't even noticed when she missed a turn. But, then her moon sized eyes shot up at me, she smiled that cheesy grin and said "Do you wanna go?" What can I say, I like my toast buttered. I like the bronze hue of her skin, sparkling like gold flakes in a reflecting pond at sunset. I like how gentle she is with her words, her thoughts, and her touch. I like Anissa... I more than like Anissa. So much so that last night I took in way more than I had intended, way more than what was good for me.

If she'd asked me for my social security number, I'd have said yes to that too. Thing is though, Anissa already knew how I felt. She knew because, in a rare moment of vulnerability, I told her. Not that I wanted to, God help me if I could undo any of the decisions I'd made in the last couple months, it would be telling Anissa Pierce how I felt.

* * *

 

We'd just spent the night together at the time. My body was shivering blissfully with aftershocks. Meanwhile she spread out next to me grinning with satisfaction.

"You look happy," Anissa teased with a cocky wink of her eye.

"Modest you are not" I laughed. "But yes, I am." I eased myself back on to the pillow, not ready to leave the comfort of our bed. Anissa dropping spontaneous kisses all over my exposed back did not help matters at all.

"I aim to please." Anissa teased again. That's when it happened. I'm not entirely sure what came over me, other than an overwhelming sense of euphoria. But, when I turned to look at her and mock her corniness, instead what came out was "I think I love you." And  then she froze up on me, like warm honey cracking under an ambush of sub-zero temperature. Crazy thing is, even though I saw it happening, even though I knew it'd be better to say less, I couldn't stop talking. It was like an assembly line of word-vomit with not emergency release.

"You're just perfect and perfectly imperfect. Honestly right now I am terrified because you're staring at me like I have horns growing out of my ears. But, also, I want to be serious. I want us to be a serious thing."

It felt like I waited two lifetimes for her to say something, anything. But the words never arrived. Instead what came to me were feelings of embarrassment and anxiety. A wash of nervousness swept over me. I leapt out of bed eager to avoid eye contact. I didn't really know where I was going. It was my apartment, I couldn't exactly leave.

Instead, I ran into the bathroom and locked the door. This was hands down the most petulant thing I'd done in my entire adult life and I was mad at myself for allowing it to happen. Still, there I was, cowering in a bathroom, listening for the sound of her footsteps marching sheepishly across the floor.

All I wanted was to hear the front door open and close, my cue that the cost was clear. But there were just footsteps followed by deafening silence. My hands started to shake uncontrollably, my heart was racing. I felt an unbearable itch stabbing at me from the underside of my skin. It was good that I'd secluded myself to the restroom because I had a sinking feeling. Although, it had been years, and more than likely my nerves were just getting the better of me. Still, I had a feeling and I found myself searching the medicine cabinet for reassurance, for comfort. "Grace, I just...I just got out of a relationship." More silence. "Can you please come out and talk to me." But I couldn't. I was petrified. I'd messed up, I let her in. Now I was dealing with all these old feelings of being a terrified little girl, scared of caring about anything and too jaded to ever expect anything from anyone.

That wasn't Anissa's fault. She hadn't done this to me. She couldn't possibly understand. So I just sat there shaking uncontrollably and clinging to a pill bottle for comfort. Finally, mercifully, I heard the distinct sound of metal turning against metal. A rush of cold air from the outside caused my skin to bristle. The oversized weighted door scraped against the wood floor. A big thud followed by a swift click. She was gone. That was it.

* * *

 

We didn't see or speak to each other for almost two months after that. Then one day she just showed up. I couldn't get her to stop showing up. Even when I switched to working private parties instead of bars. It was like she had some sort of sonar that told her exactly how to find me.

At one party in particular, I thought I'd scare her away by flirting with one of the party guests, a fairly attractive Andro girl that had been eyeing me for the better part of the night. So, I slid her a free drink and hung back longer than usual to chat her up.

"This is delicious,"she said with a smile. "What's in it?"

"Trade secret." I did my best to flirt back but my heart was not in it.

Anissa spotted us, which is whatwI wanted. But instead of leaving, she did something else. Something, very Anissa.

"A little early for Valentine's Day, don't you think?" She said this in a conversational way, like in leu of an introduction she was just going to hijack the conversation as smoothly as possible.

"What do you mean" our unassuming guest inquired.

"It's the name of the drink." She grabbed a tasting straw from a nearby table, dipped into the girl's drink, and took a sip. "But, you're right. It is very delicious."

If Anissa's eyes had been lasers she'd have burned my clothes off with her gaze.She was never subtle. But she got what she wanted, the other woman turned and left so quickly I didn't have time to object.

"Anissa what are you doing?"

"Thought you could use a ride." Anissa quipped.

I couldn't help scoffing, I was still fuming mad. It wasn't entirely her fault, but that didn't keep that familiar itch from creeping up under my skin. "I'll walk."

She took my hand in hers and spent way too much time studying my fingers."Isn't it a little late," she stepped closer in to my space cushion. "And a little cold," she took my other hand and guided it toward her hips. "And a little dangerous to be walking by yourself at night?" That itchy feeling under my skin intensified. It was my body fighting like hell to suppress an inevitable internal implosion. "I have to go" I muttered while pulling away.

But Anissa wouldn't let me. "Look, we don't have to talk. But at least let me drive you back when your shift ends." That's how it started up again, just fifteen minutes. No talking. She promised no talking. And we didn't talk, not the first couple of times.

* * *

 

But not talking was a terrible idea. Even with her eyes on the road, Anissa had this energy, this body language that was unambiguous and proudly overt. I knew I was a gonner the second I set foot in her car. I just wasn't sure when my resolve would break.

One day, after a spectacularly grueling shift, my feet were so sore, Anissa had to help me into the car. She didn't say anything, she just did it, instinctively. It was the most we'd touched each other in what felt like ages. It's a sad way for someone's resolve to break, especially someone like me so eager to be independent. But, that was all it took. I spent the whole ride wanting to touch her, but not able. I didn't want to confuse things.

But by the time she got to my apartment I only had one thing on my mind. She opened the door and reached her hand out to help me up, but instead, I used it to pull her in. I kissed her, meaning for it to be soft and quick. But I couldn't pull away and it morphed into this slow unraveling exploration. Before I knew it she was on top of me, my blouse somehow open, and chest heaving. "Wait." Anissa voice was soft and breathy. "I want this, but uh not like this."

She sat up, still straddling me. "We need to talk." I reached up to stoke her cheek. My skin was like a house on fire now. "No talking." I tried to kiss her again but she turned away from me. So, instead, I buttoned my top, slid my way out from around her, and hurried my way inside. I wasn't scared of talking, I was scared she would see. I had to run, and I couldn't tell her why. So we didn't talk about it. Still haven't talked about it. Still haven't let her back in my apartment.

* * *

 

Now, now it was two in the morning, I was completely out of chips and cradling my phone with my thumb hovering over Anissa's number. I sat there like a vegetable, staring at her name. Finally, I just pressed dial. I was convinced she would not answer. It was two in the morning after all. Nothing good happens at two in the morning.

"Grace?" The sound of her voice startled me. "Is everything alright?"

"I'm sorry to wake you. I didn't... forget it." I was in a rush to hang up. But I kept holding on, enticed by the sound of her breath groggy and soft on the receiver.

"Grace? What's wrong?"

My voice started to shake even before I spoke. "Can you come over?"


	3. Green Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anissa examines the consequences of her actions and it brings her closer to Grace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking a break after this chapter. But not a long break.

Six hours ago Grace was too busy for sex. Now she was calling me at two in the morning to come over. Only hookups come over at that hour. But, the way she sounded, broken and alone, I couldn't just ignore her. Only problem was, sneaking out was nearly impossible with Jennifer around.

"So, you really thought you could sneak out for a booty-call?" Jennifer called out. She was holding a glowing ball of electricity in her hands like a nightlight.

"I'm a grown woman, and it is not a booty-call."

Jennifer rolled her eyes in disbelief. "You tiptoeing out at still-dark-as-hell-o'clock because of a ten second conversation with your ex?"

I shook my head in disagreement. But Jen had her mind made up. "Sounds like a hook up to me." But then she smiled, the way sister's always smile when they are secretly happy for you. "You really like her huh?"

I couldn't tell if it was the heat from Jennifer's electricity ball, or just a feeling rustled up in me by the thought of Grace. But I felt a warmness come over me.

"Yeah, I do."

* * *

 

The last significant conversation we had was the time I showed up out of the blue rambling about my dear uncle, who turned out to be not dead. Since then though, we hadn't really...talked, like at all. I couldn't wrap my head around it. I mean we almost talked that time in the car, but then Grace ran away. Then last night after the carnival she shut me all the way down. I just wanted to talk, I swear.

It seemed like she didn't take me seriously anymore. Like I'd scared her away and she wasn't planning on letting me back in. The thought alone had me terrified.

Decisions have consequences, that's what my dad was always saying. But I'd never felt them like this. That two months was torture, torture made excruciatingly more painful by the fact that I wasn't expecting it and had no idea when it would end. By not expecting, I mean I'd left out of relationships before, been left a couple times too. It never really meant anything cause I'd just find another girl. Grace was different though.

The two months we were apart, I felt like a green light junkie trying to quit cold turkey. I'd chased her dragon down way too many wrong turns trying to replicate a high that had no equal. Inaction is action, my dad liked to say that one too. Like not saying anything after your girlfriend says she loves you for the first time. The light ahead of me turned red. I came to a natural stop. The car filled with a crimson tinted hue. It was familiar. Red means stop. It gets learned, it’s part of human indoctrination. Red means stop, always, always stop. That's what I saw that day. She said “I love you” and everything around me turned red. Full Stop. I’d never said love to anyone, not romantically. And then there was the small issue of my powers. Was it even okay for me to love someone as Thunder? How could I keep something like that a secret from someone I love? I'd have to tell her, if I loved her. A haze of emerald filled the car. But my mind waswstuck on red. The truck behind me honks impatiently.

“Move bitch.”

I can faintly make out the words, but even so, I’m pissed off. Inaction is action. I floor the gas and then force my Jeep to an abrupt stop. I hear tires spinning as the car behind me hurries to break. From my rear view I see the jerk behind me. His head lunges forward then zaps backward. For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Newton said that. The laws of physics are a beautiful thing to behold.

With my foot back on the accelerator, my mind returned to Grace. Of course I loved her. I’d known that the second she stormed out of her own bedroom and hid in the bathroom. But I don’t think I’d make it if what happened to my parents happened to us. As long as I didn’t say it, I thought, I could still hold on to her, we could still be us. Or so I thought at the time. I wasn’t thinking about the consequences. I didn’t see them. Not until now. Not until days turned into weeks of no one to talk to, and the only rewards id gained were knots in my stomach, along with the agony of loneliness.

I’d made up my mind to tell her. We were going to talk as soon as she opened the door. And I mean a legit conversation this time, not a euphemism or anything like that. In fact, I was so caught up thinking about what to say to her, that I barely noticed a flash of what looked like fur running past me at about 200 miles an hour. The next thing that happened seemed too unreal to be believed. Something hit my car with heavy force. Next thing I knew I was spinning off the road and into a ditch. The windshield shattered, the driver side door collapsed in on me before I could breathe in too deeply. Now there was too much pressure on my abdomen for me to take in the necessary amount of air. Jennifer’s voice kept playing in my head “Nothing good happens at two in the morning.” Whatever happened after that, I don’t remember. I blacked out.

* * *

 

When I came to, I was at Grace’s, curled up on the couch and wrapped in a blanket. With nothing on except my bra and some shorts, I assume she let me borrow. My feet were on her lap and she seemed to be observing me with cautious optimism. “Hey” I manage with a little soreness in my voice. “Hey” she smiles back. I tried to sit up, but she gently guided me back down.

“Try not to move. You were in an accident.”

As she spoke, I noticed Grace’s hair was wet and she was in a bathrobe. This is a very hot look on her. But her serious tone reminds me that I need to pretend to be in pain. Sitting up extra slowly, I move to face the opposite direction so that I can rest my head next to hers. “I remember.”

“You do?” Grace's voice sounds worried. “What exactly do you remember?”

“Yeah, I uh…got hit. The car went spinning.”

As I spoke, I could feel her trembling underneath me. I told myself it was her worry, her anxiety.

“How did I get here?”

“You called me.” She said it as calmly as if she were ordering a pizza.

But it still didn’t add up. Why didn’t she call an ambulance, take me to the hospital? I didn’t know what to think. But before I could get to a follow up question, Grace had an unsolicited explanation at the ready. “You were worried the 100 had paid off some of the hospital staff. Said they might still be after you.” She stroked at my hair lovingly and I was lulled into her bosom. “I would never let anything bad happen to you 'Nissa.”

Grace draped an arm around my shoulder. It felt natural to me, like how we were meant to be. This was my moment. I wasn’t going to wait another second. I locked eyes with her, snuck one hand up to cup her chin. I needed to be sure I had her full attention. “I know you wouldn’t. I love you too Grace.” And then I kissed her.

My hands started roaming through endless curls of silky black hair. As I moved to deepen the kiss I could feel her giving in to me, and believe me, I was eager to have all of her. But then, yet again, she pulled away.

“We can’t, you’re injured” Grace protested.“Matter-of-fact, I need to change your bandages.”

But I was having none of it. When she got up from the couch so did I. When she moved to check my dressings, I took them all off, revealing that I was fully healed. I brought her hands to my exposed abdomen so that she could be sure. Still, Grace shook her head and pulled her hand away.

“I should call your mom at least. You could have internal…” Before she could finish I kissed her again.

“Do I have to beg?” I was pulling at the rope on her robe, teasing it loose until it gave way on it’s own. “I’m not going to beg.”

I snuck my hand down from her face tracing the natural curve of her body down from her breast line to the end of her navel. I looked up for a sign of approval. My fingers traced down to her inner thighs. There was a distinctive moisture building there that provided some needed reassurance. I felt Grace’s hands slip under my shorts. Her nails dug softly into my ass. My body arched upward in response.

“Okay?”

“Yes” she let out in a whisper.

I started to tease her, just with my fingers. But Grace instructively lowered my head to meet her hips. I happily did as I was told. As I did, I could feel a hand come up to my chest massaging and teasing my nipples. Her other hand stayed firmly planted on my ass as she sucked her hips slowly back and forth against my face.

I was afraid we wouldn’t manage to stay on the couch with her moving around like that, so I took in a little extra air and held it, hoping the extra density would keep us steady.

“Anissa, what the…ahh” Grace looked like she was going to have a full body meltdown. “your tongue is like cold steel right now.” “You want me to stop?” I ask. Before she could answer, I felt Grace tensing up on me. I knew she was close Two fingers slip past my ass and begin to stroke at my center until they find their way inside. She’s still riding me, her motion is increasingly more frantic. The ground beneath us trembles and I worry it is from me exhaling too deeply and too quickly.

I do my best to slow my breathing, but she is all the way in me at this point, swirling and massaging simultaneously. I feel flush and euphoric all at ounce. Grace tightens up again. I take one last deep breath and wait for her to hitch when she does, she explodes. I feel her entire body collapse in on me, but I don’t let her go. That last breath was just enough leverage. Just enough for me to hold on and ride out the aftershocks with her.

I arrived quietly somewhere in the middle of all of it. Grace was still trembling, but took time to marvel at the stream of my love that made it’s way down her palm. The ground shook under us again. But this time I knew it wasn’t me.

“Grace” I sighed in-between trying to catch my breath. “I think this is an earthquake.”

Another tremor, this one strong enough to crack a picture frame and knock a stack of coasters off of Grace’s side table. She’d finally recovered enough to sit up properly. But she was still raggedly gathering her composure.

“That’s no earthquake” Grace insisted with a slight hint of dread in her tone. “It’s them.”

Her eyes shot open with a thousand-mile stare. She was gazing into the darkness locked in on a random empty space as if the devil himself was standing there.

“They found me.”


	4. Red Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anissa is forced to reveal her powers as she learns more about Grace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a little bit of a novice when it comes to DC comics so cut me some slack on continuity. I will try to be as authentic as possible.

She said they. They, as in more than one. They, a pronoun used for simplification when familiarity has already been established. I had no idea who she was talking about. But, she said They were after her as if I should have known. The walls shook around us. Grace and I hurried to get our clothes back on. I could hear the distinct sound of footsteps marching in unison. I’d learned to distinguish from walking and marching after attending one too many step shows at the university quad. But whatever this was, whoever They were, they weren’t stepping for fun. There was an anger, a forceful maliciousness to the sound of their marching.

“Grace, what is this? Who are they?”

But Grace just kept staring into the darkness, stuck in her petrified trance. I understood then that whatever was happening, I was going to have to protect her. I just wasn’t sure if I’d be able to do it on my own. The shaking was unrelenting now, like trying to walk a straight line in a bounce house. There must have been at least hundreds of them, whoever they were, surrounding the apartment complex. I could take on maybe ten of Tobias’ goons on my own, but hundreds? With all the vibrations around us, I couldn’t tell if Grace was shaking or standing still. Worse still, I had no time to focus on her because the wall that used to support her headboard had cracked straight down the middle forming a sort of crevasse. Another loud boom and the crack splintered and expanded to double its previous size.

“Get behind me Grace” My plea was calm but serious. Still, she was unmoved.

“Anissa we have to run” Grace pled.

This wasn’t the reveal I wanted. This wasn’t how I wanted her to find out. But we had no time. I had no idea how she managed to piss off Tobias or The 100, but I could not let them hurt her. As quick as possible, I lunged forward and pounded my fist into the split wall as hard as I could. Immediately the wall crumbled and sent chunks of debris flying out the other side toward whoever had been coming for us. The pile of wire, scraps, crumbled drywall, and brick that formed in the aftermath seemed to be keeping them from getting through. But, I knew it wouldn’t hold.

"How…how did you do that?”

It stunned me that she hadn’t clued in, like even a little, when I made a miraculous recovery from what should have been a fatal accident. A miraculous recovery in the span of three hours, and Grace thought nothing of it. But, I knock a giant hole into a concrete wall and she suddenly has questions. I turned to see Grace with her mouth hanging open. The ground wasn’t shaking around us anymore, but she was, like a leaf trying to hold on for life in the wind. There just wasn’t enough time to calm her down. Instead, I ran toward her, put her over my shoulder and bounded as fast as I could out of the building.

* * *

 

 

I thought for a second of calling my dad, only for a second, only long enough to remember how much of a control freak and over-reactor he tended to be whenever his kids were involved. Not that I didn’t understand, I just didn’t have time for the twenty-million questions he’d want answered after the fact. By the time we got outside Grace had regained most of her senses, or at least she’d gained enough of her wits back to start shoving against me and protesting to be let down.

“Anissa you don’t understand, you have to let me down!”

But we weren’t safe yet. There was a tracker built into my suit, the suit I didn’t have. It would have clued Uncle Gambi into my location, he could have come to get us. But, I didn’t have the suit. What I had was booty shorts and bruised ribs. There was a gas station around the corner from Grace’s apartment. I thought, for a second, we could hide out there, if we could make it there before They caught up to us. All I could do is keep running.

It dawned on me that Grace was no longer dazed, confused, and incapable of speech. “Babe, how exactly did you piss off The 100?” I implored.

“I didn’t.” Her answer only caused me more confusion. “It’s the Bouda, they found me.”

At this I had to put her down. As much as I’d seen, as much as weird shit had gone down in the last year, I could believe a lot of things, like a lot. But this, I was not going to accept this. “The Buddha is after you?!!!?!” I was slightly exasperated. "A religious figure representing enlightenment is after you?!"

“No, the Bouda!” A rumbling snuck up on us like a wave rippling through the ocean. “Anissa, I really don’t have time to explain.”

Grace’s hair was still wet. Combined with the cool night air, she was shivering way more than I was. I could see the goosebumps pricking up on the back of her neck, and all across her arms. Still, she seemed firm, unwavering in her determination to handle this on her own. We were running in an aimless direction with an unproductive level of speed. No matter how fast we ran, the ground was still moving under us, shifting like tectonic plates in a hurry to create new earth. From above I heard a high-pitched whaling followed by a chorus of hissing. I looked up to see an army of what looked like hyena falling from the sky like a hail storm. Each one of them carried a staff. As they landed, they’d strike the ground staff first. Each time, the impact would send a blast of shockwaves so vigorous that anything within a one-hundred-meter radius went flying into the air if it wasn’t already bolted down.

After the first one hit, Grace and I went soaring fifty feet into the air. I used whatever momentum I had to propel myself toward her before we both hit the ground. As I caught hold of her I took in a deep breath and angled my feet toward the ground. “I should never have called you, I knew they were coming, I knew this would happen…” Grace was rambling. Too frustrated to strategize. It didn't matter much anyway. We were outnumbered. There were ten Bouda on the ground now forming a predatory circle around us, and more falling from the sky every second. The Bouda began to chant in some language that sounded like it came from Central Africa. It definitely wasn’t Latin, I knew that much.

“Wote ni wa Urzkartaga, Wote wanapaswa kurudi Urzkartaga!”

There are no fitting words to describe the visual of chanting hyenas, chanting hyenas walking on two hind legs and carrying magic walking sticks.

“Wote ni wa Urzkartaga, Wote wanapaswa kurudi Urzkartaga!” They repeated the refrain over and over again. Each time, the circle grew larger.

“Hata Urzkartaga huondoa utii uliotokana na utumwa wa Watoto.” This time though, the words were coming from Grace.

She stood confidently even as the hyenas froze to face her. She was in a fighter stance, as if preparing for an attack. Instinctively, I followed her lead. But I had to ask, I had too many questions rolling around in my head not to ask at least one.

“What did you just say to them?”

“The short version,” she paused just long enough to fend off the first hyena to pounce at her. “I don’t owe shit to anyone!”

By the time they stopped falling from the sky there were about two-hundred Bouda all around us, all eying Grace like a feast that was theirs for the taking. I was preparing myself to defend Grace. All of my thoughts were concerned with protecting her from them, keeping them from hurting her. Their eyes were fixed on her like tunnel vision. That’s why I didn’t see it coming when it happened. Didn’t even have time to adjust. About twenty of them jumped at me in unison attacking and biting from all angles. I took in as much air as I could, then pushed my arms backward. It was enough to shake half of them off. But the other half were ripping at my flesh and digging in jaws deep.

“Leave her alone!” Grace was shouting, pleading, and crying all in one voice.

But the Bouda were unrelenting. I was doing my best to fight them off, but every time I knocked a handful of them down, another handful would leap up at me.

“I’ll go with you” Grace pled, which both confused and enraged me. “I’ll go with you,” she repeated. “Just leave her alone.”

She was desperate. The tears falling from her eyes dripped down toward her chin forming two glistening streams against her caramel skin. I wished I could wipe her tears away, wished I could do something but there were too many Bouda.

She turned to face me, still crying. “I’m sorry Anissa, this is the only way.”

The hyenas stood down and began marching in a circle again. “Wote ni wa Urzkartaga, Wote wanapaswa kurudi Urzkartaga!”

They pounded their staffs into the ground, but I’d learned from before and took in a deep breath before the sticks hit the ground. They struck the ground repeatedly in unison, forming cracks and pot holes in the road. The early signs of sun rise were peaking out from the crest of the horizon, but it was still dark out. The sticks hit the ground one more time. This time though, the ground gave way revealing a glowing red light being emitted from somewhere deep underneath. The red light spread until it was something of a deep vortex, a portal to whatever world the Bouda came from.

“Grace, you are not going in there” I demanded. “I love you, I can protect you.” But my words were not enough. I could see in her face she’d already committed to doing this, to leaving me. I felt that dread again, that sense of unyielding regret. I never should have said it, never should have put it out in the universe. I hadn’t even got to love her openly for a full day before she was gone. But I couldn’t sit around having a pity party, I had to be present for her. Grace stepped through the clan of hyenas toward me. For their part, the Bouda did not protest this action. They seemed to be in tune with Grace, like they understood her intentions, even without words.

“I love you more than life Anissa. More than anyone and anything.” Her hand grazed my cheek and I clung to it, desperate for her to stay close to me. “But, if I don’t go now, they’ll never leave you alone.”

“But Grace, you don’t understand I can protect you…I’m…” I tried to protest, but Grace just raised her hand to my lips.

“You’re Thunder” she finished the sentence for me. “Somewhere between you busting through a concrete wall and fighting off forty ware-hyena on your own, I kind of put it together.” The look on her face said it all. I wasn’t enough. Whatever was after her, whatever she’d been running from, Thunder wasn’t enough to make her feel safe.

“I can’t let them hurt you. I won’t”

A kiss on the forehead led to a short kiss on the lips neither one of us could bare to make the moment last longer than it need to last. She stood with her back facing the portal, crossed her arms over her chest and plunged backward into the vortex. The Bouda followed in after her, But when I tried to follow in after them, two of hyenas shoved their staffs out and plunged them deep into my chest, sending me flying back toward Freeland.

* * *

 

I got back home to the waiting eyes of my mom, and dad. Jennifer was doing a terrible job of pretending not to know where I’d been. Her poker face was weaker than Folger’s Instant Coffee. However, upon thorough examination, my parent’s expressions changed from unnecessary parental disapproval, to shock, concern, and distress. “My God, Anissa what happened to you?” My mom’s voice broke the silence. “I’m fine mom.” I declare with withdrawn detachment. “Nothing’s broken but my heart.”

As if on cue Jennifer chimed in with her trademark wit "Well, that wasn't at all melodramatic." I chuckled a little, but it was hollow. I wouldn't be whole again until I got Grace back.


	5. In the Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace travels back to a family place and relives some painful memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a turn and there are a lot of creative liberties. Things will calm down after this, but I felt like this chapter was necessary, just pre-warning that it gets a little strange.

The news in Freeland was never good. Politicians were always corrupt, the weather was always disappointing, and someone, or several someones, were always dying. You get used to it, you get used to the bad. But being accustomed to it did not mean I had to understand it. Still, for the most part, I could understand, I could rationalize the why’s how’s of economic inequality leading to a system of subjugation that spurs a systemic ride in the frequency of crime. Enough times as Anissa had beat me over the head with her nerd-rants, I definitely got that. But no matter many times Anissa tried to tell me, tried to explain, I just couldn’t wrap my head around crimes of passion. How could love cause pain?

How? I'd been asking myself that for what felt like ten lifetimes. Probably longer than that. But what do I know, I was just abandoned by my parents in a strange land ruled by Urzkartaga. My entire childhood. It was a sacrifice made for love, that is what the Plant God told me. Everything I knew of my parents was derived from the oral history provided to me by the Bouda.

My father was a researcher, my mother was an archeologist, or so I was told. They traveled to the Okarunga region of Bwunda. They traveled, my father and my seven-months pregnant mother, to study the geologic history of the region. That’s when they discovered Urzkartaga, that’s when their lust for power lead them to worshipping the plant God. My mother drank the water that collected at the roots of the Plant God’s trees. She drank the mystic water habitually, and because I was growing inside of her, I drank his water too. Not that any of it was my choice, nothing in my childhood was MY choice.

My mother drank from the waters of Urzkartaga even when it was making her sick. She died sucking dew from the Plant God’s leaves. My father, for his part was so devastated, he sacrificed himself to Urzkartaga . Never mind the fact that he had a toddler to raise, never mind that he’d said he loved me. He left me. Left me with a blood thirsty God and no other human contact, because he was lovesick.

So, no, I didn’t get crimes of passion. I didn’t get people saying that love made them hurt people. Love shouldn’t hurt, shouldn’t cause any pain. That’s what I believed, believed all the way up until an army of Bouda attacked Anissa and I was helpless to stop them. In that moment all of my father’s terrible decisions made complete sense. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I had to. I had to leave so they wouldn't hurt her, even though it meant I was the one hurting her.

The world of the Plant God knows no time. I was told this repeatedly as a child, but had no concept of what it meant to me. Not until the covenant was broken, not until the Plant God, Urzkartaga, in the rarest moment of mercy, banished me back to Gotham, the last known city of my parents. He’d raised me as his progeny, after all. I was born with the eyes of the Cheetah, but I was not a Cheetah.

I was the only human ever to be immune to the effects of Urzkartaga’s water. According to Urzkartaga, this meant I was a god like him. And in Bwunda I was. I had subjects who bowed to me and made sacrifices. But I was only a child, or so I thought.

Then Urzkartaga returned me to Gotham, to prove his love to me, to show that he was my true father. I woke up in a graveyard next to the tombstones of my parents, buried next to each other in 1977. I was fourteen, I'd never been anywhere outside of Bwunda. Or so Urzkartaga told me. “When the time comes, you will choose the ways of Urzkartaga. You will fulfill your duties as my right hand.” Those were his last words to me.

All I knew was, yet again, I was being left. And I hated him for it. Hated him even more when my confusion about times and dates landed me in Gotham City Hospital. That hatred only intensified when I finally accepted that it was some how 2008. “The world of Urzkartaga knows no time.” I heard him saying those words over and over in my head until I detested the sound of them. But when they attacked Anissa, I didn’t care anymore. I didn’t care if I’d miss an entire century in the span of what felt like ten minutes. Didn’t care if it meant she would love someone else, or several someones. I had to stop them from hurting her.

So, with my eyes closed and arms crossed I jumped willingly into the abyss I’d once sworn I would never reenter.

* * *

 

When we finally landed, I found myself greeted by lavish arrangements of Pyola flowers and garlands laid at my feet by awaiting Bouda, the loyal subjects of. Urzkartaga. I’d walked this path many times before. I knew every element of the process. First came the washing of feet. The path could not be walked without purification. Then we walked the first mile with bare feet, to show purity of intent.

After finishing the mile long walk, I was gifted with sandals fashioned from the orange and purple stems of the Pyola flower. For the next two miles a thick, heavy steam swelled up from all around me. The steam was inescapable and stuck to every available surface. It soaked into my clothes so that they felt like twenty pounds of water weight pulling me down. About three miles in, the air was so dense, I could hardly choke it down.

That’s how he wanted it. Urzkartaga wanted all his subjects pushed to the point of desperation by the time they reached him, and that is exactly where I was. Weak and wobbly from the barrage of steam, I made my way up the steps that led to Urzkartaga's mystic waters. As I did, the Bouda began to chant

“Cheetara yenye nguvu. Tubariki Cheetara.”

They were using a name I hadn’t heard in ages. The name they’d forced upon me. A name that made my skin crawl.

“Cheetara yenye nguvu. Tubariki Cheetara.”

“Stop” I shout as loudly as I can, but the dense air hurts my lungs and my voice doesn’t carry far enough for anyone to listen.

I step my feet into the water and feel immediately refreshed by the waters of my birth. My skin begins to crawl again, my fingers transform to claws. I feel the burgening transformation. With all the strength I can muster, I fight to suppress it.

“Cheetara yenye nguvu. Tubariki Cheetara”

“STOP!” But the Bouda will not listen to me.

To them I am their goddess, and they will worship me at the command of their God. I spot my own reflection in the water and realize that I am losing time. My inner being is winning out. But I barely have time to process that because the mist surrounding us turns into a thick green fog. From this fog, the Plant God emerges.

I watch impatiently, as all the Bouda bow and render salute. There attention turned to me, there expressions a mix of confusion and anxiety. I’d dared not to bow before the mighty Urzkartaga. Finally one of them stepped forward. His face strikingly familiar.

“Have you forgotten us Cheetara.” I was so caught up in the familiarity of his face, it took me by surprise when he suddenly struck me in the head. “You will bow to Urzkartaga”

But I refused to bend. “I am no Cheetara. And I will bow to no one. A stream of blood dripped from the crown of my head and down off of my chin forming spots in the water. I saw his hand rise to strike me again, but this time I caught it and lifted my eyes to meet his.

“Yonas?”

“I am Yonas, Keeper of the Guard. And you are the goddess Cheetara, now bow before Urzkartaga!”

My grip on his staff prevented Yonas from striking me again, so instead he tried to pounce at me. At this I finally let go and allowed my inner beast to take hold. I took control of the staff and lept into the air with the staff pointed squarely at Yonas' chest. I couldn’t control myself, not once I let the beast take hold.

I saw flashes of myself playing marbles with Yonas as a child, us learning from the same study material and cheating on tests together. The staff was still spiraling toward him. I couldn’t stop it. His body arched outward at impact. His blood splattered and projected out in a million different directions.

“Yonas?” I called out to him but it was no use. His blood had already seeped into the waters of Urzkartaga, returning him to the God he'd faithfully served.

* * *

 

My moment of grief was cut short by a barrage of incessant hissing. I'd angered the Bouda and they were preparing their attack. I could hear everything, the sound of their teeth nashing and grinding together, the thunderous boom of their feet stomping the ground uniformly. I knew I was fucked. But damn if I wasn’t going to go down swinging.

I lowered myself on all fours to gain better balance, dug my claws into whatever earth I could find beneath me, then swung my tail wildly and without discrimination at anything that moved. I could feel them lunging at me, ripping my flesh away from the bone. They came two, sometimes three at a time. Yet every one of them I devoured with a level of blood-lust I’d previously sworn to never condone.

The more they came, the more I fought, the stronger the beast became and the less human I felt. I looked down to see a lake of crimson where there had once been clear waters at my feet.

Only then did I realize this had been their plan all along, a suicide mission to force the beast they called Cheetara out of me. And, I’d fallen for it. I was nothing but pure rage at this point. I sprinted out of the water and sprung into the crowd of Bouda, determined to kill them all. That’s when he finally spoke.

“ENOUGH!” His voice shook like an earthquake. With it, everything froze.

I found myself suspended in mid air at the mercy of Urzkartaga's will.

“The ways of the outside world have made you foolish little girl.” He kept me suspended in the air as he spoke, just so I would know who was in control. “I never should have sent you to Gotham.”

Sent. He said sent, implying mutual agreement.

“I wasn’t sent I was abandoned. I slept on the street for months.”

Urzkartaga released his hold on me and I plummeted to the water beneath.

“Do you even know what happened to me? Do you even care?"

All of the plants surrounding his shrine slumped and went flaccid. This was the closest he’d get to admitting fault. And he was at fault, every bit of abuse I’d suffered fell squarely on the Plant God. The God I'd prayed to blindly night after night. The God who knew I was being assaulted and did little of anything to stop it. If he was mad that I’d forsaken him, that was on him.

“I tried to save you my child.” The recollection stirred up his simmering rage anew. “But you ran! Ran from the only true father you will ever have. You ran from your people!”

He was right. I ran. Ran for as long and as far as I could. When I was finally too weak to go any further, when I couldn’t feel the pull of Urzkartaga yanking at my spirit like an endless tug-o-war, I stopped. Then there I was, in Freeland.

“Perhaps, I was too kind, too merciful.” As he spoke I could feel the air getting thicker around me again. “All this time, what you needed was a firm hand.”

The air became so thick I could see it in front of me. As hard as I tried to keep it down, all I did was choke on it.

“Life begets life. Death begets death.”

I was struggling by this point, squirming around like a wounded dog. My body turned, involuntarily, to the spot where Yonas' body lay.

“The price for blood is blood.”

I’d readied myself, however reluctantly, for what was coming. I killed Yonas and Yonas was one with Urzkartaga, according to custom, that meant I had to suffer in the same way he had. I hadn’t been able to take a full breath for what felt like forever. I was sure, he'd decided suffocation would be the method of my demise.

Except, it wasn’t. The Plant God cleared the air and I gasped and wheezed responsively. My head bent toward the water, still stained red from the savagery of my attack.

But it was clear enough. Clear enough for me to watch as the Bouda came forward and dropped three droplets of blood out of a vial one of them had been carrying. They formed a half circle around the water and began stirring with their staffs. I knew what this was. I'd performed the ritual a handful of times myself. This, for me, was something far worse than death.

They continued stirring, as they did, Anissa's image appeared. She was in bed resting peacefully, her hair wrapped and skin glowing. She had no idea what was coming for her, and I had no way to warn her.

I failed, I’d killed a Bouda guard, and still failed to stop them, failed to protect Anissa. But I still had one other alternative. It was a way to connect with Anissa, a way that only I was capable of. The only problem was, if I did it right, I’d probably die in the process. The first step, I had to drink the water, I had to eat the leaves, I had to commit to being Cheetara.


	6. Deja Vu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anissa struggles without Grace while her family takes an extreme measure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told y'all I was going to have to take a long break. Hope this chapter makes up for it.

**Two days**

  
“You’re turning into an insomniac.”

“what?”

Jenn looked puzzled, completely thrown by my lack of understanding. Had she not been clear? Was my exhaustion making me delirious?

“Insomniac, like the people who don’t sleep. Like a zombie, like…damn, you look a mess get some sleep.”

I wanted to ask her how easily she slept when Khalil was being hunted by Tobias, but I thought better of it. Her wounds were still fresh. She was just a kid. Maybe not as innocent as most, but still, just a kid.  
  
Not that I could fault her for being concerned. I literally had not slept since that night Grace jumped through the portal. How could I? My bed was a plush extravagance of memory foam and high thread count sheets. If I even glanced in the direction of my pillow, I’d get drowsy right away. It was a nicety I’d paid way too much money for, and one I didn’t feel worthy of when I had no idea where Grace was, where she was sleeping, if she could even sleep. All I could think about was her safety. Until I found her there was no way I’d be sleeping.

Instead I spent my time staring at the electric glow of my computer screen. Deep diving into every archived news paper article and research paper my university’s online library had to offer on Bwunda and the Bouda.

“Well, if you’re not going to sleep, at least be smarter. Nobody ever found anybody by staring at a computer.” Jennifer shook her head in disbelief. “Haven’t you ever seen forty-eight hours?”

I wasn’t gonna say it out loud. I knew I’d never live it down if I did. But, she was right. Even if I read a thousand papers and made myself into a Bouda expert, I wasn’t going to get any closer to Grace without putting my feet to pavement.

  
So, just like that, I jumped up and grabbed my jacket. I made it halfway out the door before Jenn decided to have a panic attack over nothing. She’d gotten up out of bed and pulled one of my favorite sweaters over her head.

“Last time you left out late at night you came back looking beat to shit.” She raised an eyebrow as a means of letting me know not to bother questioning her. “If you’re going, I’m going.”

The lack of sleep had done a number on me. My eyes were glazed over and I could hardly put my thoughts in the right order. I definitely did not have any energy to protest her unsolicited aid.

A sluggish “okay” was about all I could muster.

  
We rode around for a solid half hour before Jennifer got annoyed enough to ask where I was trying to take her. The truth, I had no idea. Not at first anyway. But then I saw it calling to me from two lights ahead. The sight was unmistakable. A pile of rubble surrounded by caution tape stacked haphazardly next to what otherwise was a halfway decent looking apartment complex.

As we got closer the details became more refined. Pulverized bricks mixed into dirt. Scattered clothing, shattered glassware all thrown about as if razed by a tornado. I marveled at the sight as if I hadn’t been there when it happened, as if transfixed by a dystopian work of art.

“Is this where it happened?” Jenn asked. Her voice shook with minor trepidation. I don’t think she’d ever seen anything quite as chaotic.

“No” came my reply. “This is just where it started.”

Jenn picked up a few items of clothing from the ground. They’d been soiled from being left outside for so long. She let them slip off of her hands and then wiped her hands against each other as if patting the filth away.

“Not sure there’s going to be anything useful here ‘Nissa.” But I wasn’t in the mood to listen to her. I could only think of one thing.

“Are you gonna help or not?” I demanded with a hint of agitation. Jenn just shrugged her shoulders and tossed her hands up in the air as if to say she didn’t know what else she could do.

I was still searching for something. Anything that would help me figure out what to do next, but Jenn was right. There was nothing useful left there. Everything had either been broken, stolen, or carried away with the wind. Rather than cause me further irritation, Jenn settled on carving patterns into the dirt with a stick she’d picked up. I allowed myself to get lulled into distraction by the sound of the stick scraping against the ground. But then she started tapping, just lightly with it. Making a soft drum beat. That’s when I noticed. The ground was shaking. Not in a big way, not like before. Softly, gently, like the ripple of a pebble skipping on still water. I got closer, to examine the stick. Sure enough, it was exactly what I thought it was.

“Jenn, whatever you do, do not break that stick.”

  
**Two Weeks**

  
“Anissa, for the thousandth time, I don’t have anything new for you.”

My mom spoke with an exasperated hint of annoyance, as if I’d been pestering her about some no consequential thing. As if she'd suffered a lifetime of incessant questions. But I’d given her two weeks, two weeks with the staff in ASA custody, MY staff. I was being plenty patient.

“Mom, I'm only asking for an update. It's not like I expect you to…”

“Solve a 1024 bit hash in five minutes?” She raised her brow in that motherly way. I knew she’d tailored her analogies to the personalities of her children, but I didn’t know she’d gotten that well versed in computer-speak.

In that moment I understood exactly where all my geeky genes came from.

“Anissa, honey, it’s gonna take a while.” She leaned over from the counter to rub my shoulder. “As soon as I know something, you'll know.”

I wanted to protest more, but what would that do. It’d been two weeks already, did Grace even know I was still looking for her. It wasn’t my mom’s fault, and it wasn’t Jenn's or Uncle Gambi. I had to make moves. And the only way that was going to happen was, apparently, on my own.  
  
Mom had already left the kitchen by the time I dug my phone out of my pocket and started searching flights to Nambia. From my research, I learned that was the only way to get to where Grace was. Where I assumed Grace was. Only problem now was that tickets were two stacks deep. Where in Whitley Gilbert’s fake southern accent was a broke grad student gonna find two-grand in short time?

  
After reflecting for a bit, I was dead set on doing a run as Black-Bird. But as soon as I got up from the island to grab my hoodie, I got hit with the worst migraine. My vision got blurry, I could just barely make out the start of the stairs. Must have been a sign from above. I was in no condition to be playing vigilante. All I could do was stagger up the stairs, weakly attempt to wrap my hair, and then crawl into bed.

The next day I woke up feeling the same debilitating head ache I’d had the night before. It was so bad I couldn’t reach down to grab my shoes without getting dizzy. The light coming through my window felt like getting hit upside the head with a baseball bat. The air tasted like stale metal in my mouth. I knew I had to get to a hospital. But I couldn’t have anyone worried. They’d worried enough about me the past couple of days. Besides, now that I worked at the hospital, I could get myself in and out of a bed like a fast-pass at Disney Land.

  
But, I had no car, and the thunder-mobile was not exactly an option in broad daylight with no suite to disguise me. I had no choice but to take my dad’s car. He and everyone else was still sleeping. I’d go to the hospital and make it back before they even dipped a toe out from under their covers. Feeling, admittedly, over-confident, I left. My head was still spinning, but I managed to calm myself by humming along to Eternal Flame. It was Grace’s guilty pleasure song, a fact I learned when stopped by her apartment early and caught her singing into a mop.

  
That memory felt distant now and not just because Grace was gone. Even if she was here, I couldn’t see us being the same people, the same us. Not to each other anyway. I’d made it halfway to the hospital when the engine suddenly cut off. I was stopped at a light. A sudden panic washed over me. All I could do was try frantically to get the engine going again. But it wasn’t working. Another car pulled up beside me. I watched with terror as the window rolled down. This felt all too familiar.

Something hit the car like a big blast of electricity. I saw flashes of the accident that night on the way to Grace’s. The gas station ahead of me, the asshole that tried to cut me off, me spinning out into a ditch. Then there was a flash of fur. I couldn’t make it out at first, but now I remembered. There was a cat there that night. And by cat, l mean leopard, or jaguar, or cheetah, or something really big and really fast.

Another jolt of electricity hit the car. I saw the familiar shadow of my dad's imposing figure step out toward me.

“Anissa?!” he boomed with both outrage and confusion. This wasn’t the first time he’d mistakenly attacked me. “What the hell, I could have killed you.”

My head was on the verge of exploding, so each word felt like trying to choke down bits of shattered glass. But I still had to try. “Dad I…” but before I could finish, everything went black. The last thing I saw was the shift as my Dad’s eyes went from anger to sudden panic.

  
**Three months**

It felt like I’d just gone to sleep. I was groggy and completely out of sorts, but just needed a good cup of coffee. I could see Jen out in front of me, but when I tried to call out to her nothing came out of my mouth. Was I mute? No, I reasoned. I’d just lost my voice probably. I tried to get up to go over to her, but I was immediately pushed back down by restraints. “WHAT IN THE FUCK JEN!!?” I tried to shout.

  
“ 'Nissa just relax. Stop trying to talk.” Jen’s voice was full of Hope and worry all at once. “glad to see you’re back from dream-ville.”

  
Just then a completely unfamiliar face walked into the room. She was tall with thick curls of natural hair pulled away from her face by a loosely fitted headband.

“Oh my God!” the woman proclaimed. “It worked.”

But what worked? What in the hell had they done to me? Where was I? Now she was just staring at me like I was some science project and she was a socially inept weirdo.

“Sorry, I'm sorry. My name is Dr. Charlie Ross.”

“Dr. Ross is from the ASA” Jen tried to explain, but it only made me panic even more.  
“Was from the ASA.” Dr. Ross corrected.

“She’s been helping mom try to figure out how to get you back from whatever purgatory you were stuck in “

  
As I looked around more I noticed some familiar things. I could just make out the edge of a winding black staircase that told me we were in Uncle Gambi's basement. The sleeve of my Thunder suite was visible through the curtains, and off in the corner of what was apparently my makeshift hospital room, stood the staff I’d given mom to look in to.

  
Dr. Ross took a note pad and pencil out from her pocket. Gently, she handed them to me.  
“Do you have any questions for me?”

She bit her lip at the end of the question, as if trying to bottle up the excitement she was still feeling from the success of their experiment. Their experiment on me.

Hurriedly I jotted down the first question I could think of.  
“How long?”

She looked at Jen for reassurance, but found only a blank expression. Then she began a meandering stream of words that did not answer the question at all.

“These things take time, and relatively speaking this was a pretty speedy recovery once we arrived at a solution…”

  
I rolled my eyes and pointe at the paper again.

  
“Two and a half months” she finally let out. The bronze undertones of her unblemished mocha skin gave way to a rose tinted blush of embarrassment. I began to scribble again.

This time Jen stepped over to see what I was writing.

“Where's Grace?” she read aloud. Jen turned a level of serious I did not know she was capable of.  
“Dr. Ross could you please give my sister and me a minute alone.”

  
Dr. Ross was already halfway out the curtain. “Sure, I’ll just go call your parents, give them the good news.”

  
When Jen was sure Dr. Ross was safely up the stairs, she walked over to where the staff was and held it firmly in her arms. She marched over to me with it and placed my hand on it. Instantly the staff lit up, the ground shook underneath us. In my mind I could see an impossible maze of jungle and weeds and then there was Grace. They'd painted her face with tribal markings and adorned her with a crown fashioned out of thorny Vines and the most beautiful flowers I’d ever seen.

“Dr. Ross is a Bouda expert” Jen started her explanation. “The Bouda performed a retribution ritual with your blood. At least that’s what Dr. Ross says.”

Jen looked to make sure I was following before she continued. But, all I could see was Grace. She was beautiful.

“The only way to reverse it was to bind your spirit to another living spirit on the other side.”

Dr. Ross had come back down at some point. Neither one of of really saw her until she was already standing in front of me. I guess I wasn’t doing a good job hiding my agitation because the monitors they hooked me to started beeping like crazy. She grabbed a morphine laced saline solution and tried to hook it to my IV, but I shook my head in protest.

“Right, they told me you were a doctor too. So, Doctor Pierce, what would you suggest?”

I wrote liquid minoxidil onto the note pad and watched to make sure Dr. Ross didn’t deviate.

“If we knew of any other living person in Bwuna, believe me..” Dr. Ross trailed off. “It took me a month just to find a viable blood sample.”

“We bound your spirit to Grace’s” Jennifer jumped back in.  
For whatever reason, Jen still had us holding the staff. But I didn't mind being able to see Grace. With my free hand I began to write. “What does that mean?”

Now Dr. Ross was speaking again. As she did, I noticed Jen let go and light one of her fingers up.

“As long as you hold the staff, you have a channel to Grace.” Jen pressed her lit finger into my skin softly. It still burned like hell and I winced in pain. I watched in amazement as Grace winced too.

“She can feel what I'm feeling?” I wrote excitedly.  
“Yes” Dr. Ross answered. “And she can see you too.”

They spoke with caution, measuring each word with precision and fear. But I didn’t understand why. It all sounded like good news so far. If I could see Grace and she could see me, we could communicate. I could use the staff to find her.

“Unfortunately, the nature of the binding spell is such that both your souls are bound to the sacred staff.” Dr. Ross paused to see if I understood. Admittedly, I did at least a little. But I needed her to say it. So, she continued with marked discomfort. “You’ll have to keep the staff near you wherever you go from now on.”

Dr. Ross had more to say, but Jen cut her off gently. “That thing” she said this pointing to the staff. “Its only keeping you alive to join your spirit to Grace’s.”

I could pretty much fill in the blanks on my own at this point. But I wrote it down for the sake of confirmation.

“If I see Grace again we both die?”

Jen nodded her head yes.

 

With the staff still in my hand I mouthed the words “I love you” and held on to see her mouth them back to me. Then I let go before it started to overwhelm me. I didn’t want her to see me crying, to see me in pain. As the staff clattered to the ground a tear escaped my eye. My voice broke but only to give way to the sound of me balling like a baby.

 


End file.
